fic : We're Sick for the Big Sun
His dreams are silent now. He walks along Diagon Alley most nights, faces at every window all of them staring at him with void eyes. Silent, forever silent. He would give anything to have them speak, to scream and yell even, run at him, attack, anything but the silence.
He sees Sirius fall through the veil sometimes. Lupin and Tonks morph in and out of shadows. Fred grins sheepishly at antics long forgotten. No one speaks though.
He can’t breathe most days. The mundane routine continues day in day out. Wake up, kiss Ginny, work, dinner, bed. Do it all over. He wanted normal and this is as normal as it gets. To all intents and purposes his is a happy life. Then why is he scared to sleep at night?
They meet up every month. First Friday of the month and he’s out the door. Poker he tells Ginny. Its been five years and he can’t tell a straight flush from a full house. They go for dinner at the same place, don’t eat what they order, smoke too much, drink a lot and always end up at some motel or the other in the middle of the night.
It used to be the three of them before it was the two. Somewhere along the line Ron stopped coming. Too busy with the office, catching up on sleep, the excuses came readily enough. He didn’t need to talk about the past anymore, they did.
He can’t tell Ginny about the dreams; he can tell her though. One night every month its all they can manage. One night every month he breaths freely.
They don’t kid themselves about the morality of their actions; it’s too late for that. Both of them made some choices and they stick to them. It’s not roses and romance but it keeps them sane. She was supposed to change the world. He was destined to become an Auror. They wonder sometimes what happened to them. Life, reality, duty even. Now they both have kids and families and Sunday brunch at the Burrow. This is their life and it’s set in stone.
She was pregnant once with his child. She didn’t drink that night and he knew from the moment she walked in the door that she was. She cried as he held her in bed and he rocked her back and forth, physical motion holding him together. A baby, their baby. He had kissed her belly while she slept and walked all the way back home.
He would stop if he could; he knows Ginny probably thinks he has a gambling problem. Problem is he isn’t a gambler. He can’t leave his children without a father and she can’t leave hers. It’s comfortable their arrangement. They want more but they can’t live with anything less. Living without it, he doesn’t have the courage anymore. Drained , a shell of his former self, he sees the way Ginny looks at him now.
With Hermione he doesn’t have to pretend, he never did.